Vermin Lord
by Goodpie2
Summary: When Harry is kicked out by the Dursleys for using accidental magic, he has to live on the streets. While doing so, he discovers that he has power over vermin. M for violence and swearing. Contains a Dark, but not evil, Harry.
1. OUT!

So, I promised myself I wouldn't write anything else until I got out another chapter of Protomage (after all, it's been like eight months), but I couldn't think of anything and this little plot bunny just wouldn't quit hopping around. So, here goes. I can't honestly say how far I'll get with this, but I've got a few chapters planned out, and vague ideas after that, and I'll probably get out a few chapters fairly soon.

I would also like to ask for help. I'm an American, and I know very little about Britishlanders. I would appreciate help with everything from vernacular to culture to food. I REALLY need help with places. What I do know mostly comes from TV and books (which, admittedly, is better than most Americans, who just get their knowledge from TV). Anyway, unless I can get a real life Britishlander to help me write HP fics, my stories are going to be strangely American sounding for something that takes place in Britain.

Anyway, without further ado, I present: Vermin Lord.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

"BOY! GET IN HERE!" bellowed Uncle Vernon.

Harry sighed. He'd been wondering why it had taken so long. In the past, he'd been beaten immediately whenever something weird happened. This time, he'd just been locked in his cupboard while Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia talked in low voices. Which was odd, because Dudley had actually been hurt when his clothes caught on fire earlier in the day. Dudley had been beating him up as a "birthday present," when Harry fell to the ground. The next thing he knew, Dudley was on fire. The school nurse had even had to take him to the hospital! Harry was sure Uncle Vernon would beat him more than ever, even though Harry hadn't had anything to do with it.

Harry walked into the kitchen, where his uncle would be waiting to deliver his beating. To his surprise, Uncle Vernon was sitting down at the table with Aunt Petunia, grinning.

Harry froze. This was far more terrifying than the threat of being beaten.

"Come with me, boy." Uncle Vernon said, getting up and moving towards the living room.

Harry followed Uncle Vernon outside to the car.

"Get in," Uncle Vernon said as he opened the door for himself.

Harry, without uttering a word, did so.

As the car pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, Uncle Vernon began whistling (or rather, trying to whistle- he wasn't very good at it).

Harry sat silently, trying to figure out where they were going. Houses passed the window, until they pulled out onto the highway. As they pulled off of the highway into an area with seedy looking shops and buildings, Uncle Vernon began talking.

"I suppose you're wondering what kind of punishment this is, boy, being taken for a drive. After all, you _did _try to kill Dudders. Well, I had a nice long talk with your aunt, and she's agreed that enough is enough. We took you in, we fed you, we clothed you, we provided for your education, all out of the goodness of our hearts, and how do you repay us? By trying to murder our only son. Well, no more. I've been waiting for this day a long time, boy. I'm finally going to be rid of you, once and for all." He lapsed into silence at this point.

Harry sat there, looking at the back of his uncle's head. Frankly, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or horrified. On the one hand, the Dursleys had always been terrible to him. He'd been beaten daily (his uncle claimed it helped "keep the freakishness out of him), barely fed, and often made to work until he nearly passed out from exhaustion (if he did pass out, he would receive another beating for his laziness). On the other hand, he'd heard stories of life on the streets. It was supposed to be even worse. But, how could something be worse than the Dursleys?

He stared out the window as Uncle Vernon pulled up beside a parking deck.

"Get out, boy. And good riddance." His uncle laughed.

Mechanically, Harry climbed out of the car and stumbled to the sidewalk. As soon as he made it off the road, Uncle Vernon sped away, laughing uproariously.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Eventually, Harry wandered into the parking deck. As he settled down for the night, he _felt _something. He didn't know what it was, but it felt like it was in his mind. Or rather, _next to _his mind. As he looked around, he saw a small grey mouse crawling across the concrete. The thing next to his mind seemed to move with it. Harry reached out towards his hand, willing the mouse to come towards him so that he could get a closer look. To his surprise, the mouse suddenly changed direction and crawled straight to him, before stopping and looking up at him. Harry willed it to crawl onto his hand, which it promptly did. Staring in wonder, he brought the mouse up to his eye level.

What was going on? Could he control this mouse? Why? Was there something special about the mouse? Was there something special about _him? _Suddenly, Harry realized something. "Freak," the Dursleys had called him. They had starved him and worked him so hard so that he wouldn't have enough energy for any "freakishness," they'd said. They had beaten him to keep the "freakishness" out. Whatever it was, _they knew about it._

He thought about this as he lay down against a wall. The Dursleys had known there was something different about him. What was it, though? Could he control animals? No, he hadn't been able to do anything to stop Ripper from biting him. Just mice then? What if he could control mice? They could run errands for him. Find him food. Stand guard when he slept (he'd heard stories of bad men attacking people on the street whenever the Dursleys threatened to throw him out of the house).

As he considered the possible uses of being able to control mice, he tried to reach out with his mind. When he began to feel too "stretched out," he stopped and considered what he felt. He could detect a little over a dozen things, including the mouse in his hand. Three of these things "felt bigger" than the others. He called them all to him. To his surprise, he got not only eleven mice, but three rats, as well.

Keeping the first mouse, who he decided would be special, in his shirt pocket, he had the other mice and rats spread out around him and attack anybody who came close.

That done, he settled down with his new friend, who he decided to name "Alphonse," and went to sleep.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Over the next few weeks, Harry began to work on his abilities. He quickly discovered that he had a sort of telepathic connection with his creatures. They weren't intelligent enough to communicate much, but they could tell him if something was in the area, and some very basic information. They could tell him if it was _small _(mouse or rat sized)_,_ _big_ (bigger than a large rat)or _really big _(bigger than a medium sized dog)_, _and if there were _one _or _lots _of something. He could also transfer his mind into one of his vermin (as he began to think of them rather affectionately) to gain control of its body and senses. If he did this he could also control any vermin that were within a few feet of it. This ability was useful for stealing food and supplies. Another thing he could do was give them orders, which they would carry out to the best of their (admittedly limited) abilities. This was mostly useful for setting guards (he didn't want to be hurt by those bad men he'd heard about). He did find out that he had to give his vermin orders to eat whenever they got hungry, otherwise they'd just stand guard (or whatever) until they just starved to death. He also learned the limitations of his ability. Once a rat entered his control, if it left a certain area, he would lose control over it, unless he had direct control of its body. If he had direct control of it, he could send it as far as he liked (as far as he could tell). Interestingly, the creature had to be about three times closer to him for him to _begin _controlling it than it did for him to _continue _controlling it. At first, he had to get within about forty feet of a creature to sense it and to begin controlling it, which meant that he could continue controlling it as long as it stayed within roughly 120 feet. Over time, he extended this ability until he could reach out his mind (to begin control- he could reach much farther with the creatures he already had) across the entire parking deck, and quite a ways beyond. When he got to the third floor, he was excited to learn that he could also control the colony of bats that lived there. He immediately set them patrolling the edges of what he'd begun to think of as his territory, which basically meant the parking deck.

Using his ability to directly control rats, he was able to make a relatively nice life for himself. There was a small department store a few blocks away, and at night he'd take over a pack of vermin and go on raids. At first, he focused on the essentials- blankets, a pillow, clothes, and food. After he'd made a nice little den, which basically consisted of a pile of blankets up against a wall, he began to branch out and steal things like books and magazines. He tried to get a small TV, but it was just too heavy for the rats, and for some reason, he didn't like the idea of stealing money to buy one with. It was fine to steal _things_, as long as they were in a store_; _after all, nobody was using them, but other people worked for their money, and they needed it- not everybody could steal as easily as he could.

Eventually, over time, his life became fairly routine. He would wake up and do some exercises (he didn't want to wind up looking like Dudley), then eat breakfast. Unfortunately, he couldn't get a refrigerator, so he was stuck with packaged food, which tasted fine, but wasn't terribly healthy, so he'd do some more exercises after eating, too. Then he'd set his vermin to patrol his territory, with orders to alert him of anything _big _or _really big,_ while he read a book or magazine. Sometimes he would read about science or math, in an attempt to continue his education, but usually he preferred history and fantasy.

The patrols turned out to be very useful. A few times, the vermin alerted him to something _big, _which turned out to be stray dogs or cats. The cats he would order his vermin to kill (after all, cats killed mice and rats, and those were his friends), and the dogs would be watched. If they tried to harm his vermin, they would be killed. If they didn't, they were left alone. After a while, the dogs in the area learned that as long as they didn't attack anything, the parking deck made a nice little haven, and he had a small number of dogs living on the ground floor of the parking deck. He couldn't control them, but they were friendly and fun to play with.

One day, after he'd been in the parking deck for about three weeks, as he was reading _The Crystal Shard, _an interesting book he'd stolen from a nearby bookstore, the vermin told him that there was something _really big _entering the parking deck. Looking through the eyes of one of his rats, he could tell that it was an old man in too big jeans, held up by a piece of string, a torn up T-shirt, and a dirty brown coat. Over his shoulder was an old, worn out backpack, and on his face was a dirty grey beard. Harry's first instinct was to order his rats to kill the man, and he was about to do so, when a though struck him. This man may not be one of these bad men. He may be just like Harry- alone and friendless.

So Harry decided to go and talk to the stranger. He marked his page in the book and got up, making his way to the ground floor (his den was on the third floor, where he'd found an old, moth eaten couch and a table and chair- apparently he wasn't the first to use this parking deck as a home). Harry moved stealthily, his bare feet hardly making a sound against the asphalt, as he made his way to the man. He also had as many vermin as possible move in around the man, in case this turned out to be a mistake.

By the time Harry had reached the entrance to the ground floor, the man was halfway into the parking deck, and looking distinctly nervous (he had heard all the skittering and chattering, and seen a few of the bats swoop around).

Harry snuck around to the man's back, and spoke up.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy from disuse.

The old man jumped and whirled around, reaching for a knife hanging from the piece of string he used as a belt.

"Who'r you? What'd'you want?" the man asked.

"My name is Harry. I want to know why you're in my home," Harry said as the vermin skittered around him.

"'m just looking for a place to stay. Got inta town a few days ago, 'n' needed a place to sleep. I 'membered this place. Few friends 'n' me dragged an old couch in a couple o' years ago."

"That was you?" Harry asked, surprised. The old geezer didn't look like he could've lifted the chair, much less the couch.

"Well, mostly 'twas Jeff. He alwus did th' heavy liftin, 'fore he kicked it in a fight. Then Tiny bought it 'n ta winter o' '88- poor bugger caught 'monia, and din't never recover. Frankie went 'sane after that- Tiny was his twin, y'see, and they was real' close. 'nyway, I'm all that's left of the old crowd," finished the old man, looking sad.

Harry considered this.

"How long have you been on the streets?" he asked.

"Oh, 'ver since I was j'st teenager. Ran away from home one day 'n' got lost. By th' time my parents found me, I'd made some friends 'n' decided I liked it on the streets better. Told 'm tah git lost. Biggest m'stake I ever made. 'Twas fine for a few months, but when winter came, I nearly froze, then I fell in with tha wrong sorts, 'n' by the time I realized how bad off I was, I couldn't find m' way home."

Harry thought for a moment, then made his decision.

"Would you like to stay here with me? As long as you don't harm me or any of the animals here, I can promise food and shelter, as well as books to read," he offered.

"Thanks, son. I could use a place to stay. I'm gettin' tired of movin around all the time," the man said, before offering his hand. "M'name's Eddie. Eddie Guff."

Harry looked at the old man's hand, before stepping forward to shake it. "Harry Potter."

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

There it is. A big thanks to Opinionaided's (Thumb, to newer users) L.J., for helping me remember what the hell parking decks are called. Originally I just put "big parking building thingy," because the name had slipped my memory.

Leave a review, please! It takes 30 seconds, and makes my day. It also encourages me to write, knowing that other people have at least _some _opinion on my work.


	2. The Hard Lessons

Harry and Eddie quickly became close friends. It turned out that Eddie had been quite the reader when he was younger, and they'd spend quite a lot of time discussing and arguing over the books in Harry's collection. Once Harry stole a pair of reading glasses for the old man (Eddie was in his sixties, and beginning to lose his keen eyesight), it was almost a challenge to get him away from Harry's "library," and Eddie would always have a new book or books that he wanted Harry to get his hands on.

Another thing Harry liked about Eddie was that he didn't judge Harry for his ability to control vermin. Unlike the Dursleys, who had considered him a freak, Eddie thought Harry's abilities were something to be proud of, and told him so. He also couldn't stand the thought of the Dursleys going unpunished for what they'd done.

It was one day, as they were discussing this, that they received a visitor.

"'M tellin' ya, lad, yer power here could ruin them Dursleys. They wronged ye, and they deserve ta suffer. Imagine! Torturin' a kid 'n' usin' 'im as a slave. I don't unnerstan' why you don't find 'em 'n' give 'em what for."

Harry sighed. "I've told you the reasons I haven't done anything yet. Firstly, I don't know where they live, or how to get there. More importantly, any revenge would involve my vermin, and I can't figure out how to get _them _there. Secondly, I want them to forget about me. I want them to think I'm dead, and then I show up in their living ro... Hang on a moment. The rats just told me that there were lots of really big things on the ground floor."

Harry transferred his consciousness to one of the rats on patrol, and saw a group of four large men, two of whom were carrying baseball bats, and one of whom had a knife. Harry frowned as he switched back to his own body.

"Eddie, I think we should get to the ground floor. There are some men there, and they have weapons. I don't want to kill them- they could be homeless like you. After all, you carry a knife, and I would, if I didn't have my vermin."

"Aye, but I only use it fer protection," Eddie pointed out. "Ain't never attacked nobody what wasn't hurtin' somebody else."

"Well, maybe that's why these men carry weapons. There's no way to find out if we don't ask."

Decision made, Harry got up and walked to the ground floor, Eddie close behind him.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Tony looked up as he heard footsteps, and saw an old man and a little kid coming down the ramp from the next level.

"Hey boys," he said, grinning, "looks like we got company. Let's have some fun with 'em"

Tony, Big Mike, and Sam stood, Tony gripping his baseball bat, Sam flicking out the blade of his knife (Big Mike was already wearing his brass knuckles). Jeff, the newest and youngest member of the group, hesitated.

"C'mon guys, they ain't hurtin' nobody. Let 'em be," he whined.

"What, Jeff? You 'fraid of an old man? Or is it the kid that's scaring you? I tell you what. You wanted to join our group? Prove you're up for it. Beat on the geezer a little. You don' gotta kill 'im-" "You'd better not- that's my job," Big Mike broke in, "but break a few bones," said Sam, the leader of the small gang.

"I wouldn't recommend that, if I were you. My little friend here's a tad protective," explained the old man.

The three older boys busted out laughing, while Jeff peered at the kid as if looking for a gun.

"C'mon," Sam urged. "Bust him up. You aren't afraid of a little kid, are you?"

Jeff looked at the kid, then at the old man, then at Sam.

"C'mon, Sam. It's just a kid and an old guy. They probably live here, or somethin'. I don' wanna hurt a little kid."

"He ain't asking you to hurt a kid," Tony pointed out. "He's asking you to hurt an old fart. One of us'll take care of the kid for ya."

At this point, Harry had heard enough. _These _were the bad men the Dursleys had told him stories about. Jeff looked like he wasn't so bad, but the other three were bad people.

Harry's initial control area had extended to include most of the city block, so he had an enormous number of vermin under his control. On top of that, he sometimes went on long walks at night, taking control of any vermin that entered his area of control while he was moving, and bringing them to the first floor of the parking deck. Between these facts, and the absurd breeding rate of the creatures, Harry now had thousands of rats, mice and bats.

As the four men argued, a group of bats swooped down, and began harassing Jeff, who immediately dove for safety. With him out of the way, the horde of rats and mice closed in on the other three, while the relatively unarmed bats retreated to the roof.

Screams rang out from the men as they swung out with their weapons, but were only able to harm a few of the hundreds of vermin. Mice and rats bit, clawed, and chewed at the three men. Blood flowed over them, the scent exciting the vermin, who chewed more vigorously than before.

Harry was horrified as he watched the three men get eaten alive by his rats, and ran off, crying.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Eddie watched his young protector burst into tears and run away.

He took one last look at the gruesome spectacle before him, before turning and going to follow.

When he got to the third floor, Harry wasn't there. Looking around, Eddie realized that the boy must have gone to a higher floor to get away from the screams that were still ringing through the parking deck. Eddie sighed and made his way to the fourth floor, then to the fifth.

Finally, on the seventh and highest floor, Eddie found his friend curled in a ball against a corner, sobbing his eyes out. The screams, fortunately, had stopped by now, but the tears had not.

Eddie put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Yeh did what yeh had to, lad. If'n yeh hadn't set yer animals on 'em, they'd'a killed us, don't doubt it."

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

A few weeks later, Harry froze as another group of men, three this time, entered the ground floor. Eddie looked up, wondering what had caused Harry to stop in the middle of his sentence.

"There's more men, Eddie. What if they want to hurt us? I don't want to go through that again."

"Then don't, lad. I'll go down alone. You watch through a rat. As soon as I give the word, pull back inta yer own head, stuff yer ears, and sic yer horde on 'em, okay? Yeh won't have to hear them or see them, and we'll stay safe."

Harry considered this, before shaking his head.

"And what about the next time? And the time after that? Am I just gonna hide from all the people I kill? No. I'll go down with you."

Eddie frowned, but, seeing Harry's determination, stood aside.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked firmly (far more firmly than he felt).

"What's it matter to you, ya little brat?" one of the men (though, really, they were more boys, like the last group) challenged.

"We live here," Harry said, pointing to Eddie and himself, "and I don't like trespassers. Especially not when they have weapons," he said, nodding at the men's knives.

"Well, we aren't gonna leave just because some little twerp and his grandpa tell us to," the boy answered, "so fuck off."

At this, Harry scowled. With a thought, he had his rats and mice move into the light, and the bats come down from the ceiling and begin flying in circles around the boys.

"What the fuck? What the hell's going on?" exclaimed a second boy, staring at the writhing, crawling swarms of rats surrounding him and cutting him off from his friends. He jumped as a mouse crawled over his shoe.

"I can control vermin," Harry explained. "If you leave now," at this, the rats moved, clearing a path to the entrance of the parking deck, "I'll let you live. If you don't, my rats will kill you. It's your choice."

"Holy shit! Jeff wasn't kidding! Fuck this, I'm outta here." the second boy, the frightened one, muttered.

"C'mon, you're afraid of a few mice? Get back here, ya pussy!" Shouted Boy Number 1. However, this seemed to convince Number 3, who had yet to speak, that Number 2 was actually correct, and he ran for the exit as fast as he could.

Harry looked at Number 1, before sighing, and commanding his horde to attack.

This time, when the screams began, Harry refused to run away, or even close his eyes. He forced himself to watch every twitch, listen to every scream, until the boy stopped moving and the rats swarmed over the body. Only when every inch of flesh was gone and the rats retreated did he allow the tears to finally fall.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Over the next year, various groups of boys and men came to the parking deck- many of them after the disappearance of their friends, or after hearing a rumor of the strange boy who could control rats. To all of them, Harry gave the same warning- leave, or die. Most fled, and never returned. A few stayed. When they did, Harry would refuse to leave until his rats had stripped every bit of skin from their bodies.

So it was that Harry Potter taught himself to kill.


	3. Magic?

In the last chapter, I stated that Harry learned to kill by ordering his rats to kill anybody who wouldn't leave the factory. However, I feel that I didn't go into enough detail in that final paragraph. The idea was that people would treat the factory much as they would a haunted house- they'd hear rumors about it, and dare each other to go there, or they would just go to investigate them. Harry would show up and give them a warning- leave or die. He would also mention and demonstrate his ability to control vermin. Almost all of the people would leave. A very, very few would be stupid enough, or drunk enough, to refuse, and Harry would kill them. Because of the extremely gruesome nature of the deaths, Harry very quickly became hardened to violence. The cops never got wind of these events because there were only a few deaths, and most of those were unsavory characters whose friends wouldn't be willing to go to the cops, due to their own background. The issue is, I'm trying to turn Harry from an abused child into a creepy little bastard (although I'm not sure how to write that), and I've only got a year to do it.

I would also like to add that the last chapter was my first foray into the horror genre. I'm not sure how many scenes like that there will be- after all, Harry's going to be going to school. There aren't a whole lot of opportunities for him to kill people. I'll probably be able to come up with some violence during the summer, but even that may be limited. I have a few ideas on what he'll do to the troll, and Quirrel, but that's all. Malfoy may get injured, but he won't be eaten until later on, if at all. If you have any reccomendations on scenes, please let me know.

**An Important Note: **I have changed Harry's place of residence from a parking deck to a factory, for a few reasons. Mostly, as my dad pointed out, parking decks don't generally get abandoned. I also had a few ideas that I wanted to use later in the story. You'll have to wait to find out what they are. Unfortunately, I have never actually seen the inside (or the outside, for that matter) of a factory. So I'm just gonna use my imagination to come up with something that suits my purposes. Secondly, this chapter contains a small, normally forgotten detail that is, in this case, quite important. _Harry got his first Hogwarts letter before his birthday. _Most fics have him getting it on his birthday, but in cannon, the first one showed up some time before that. In fact, his birthday was the _last _day they would accept his enrollment.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Harry paused his reading as the bats that were patrolling the factory alerted him to something _big _flying towards his area of the third floor. He took control of them, and saw that it was a large owl. Knowing that owls ate rats and mice, he ordered a group of bats to attack the owl. As the bat Harry was seeing through (contrary to popular belief, it turned out that most bats _aren't _blind, though some kinds do have poor eyesight) closed in, he noticed that there was a letter clutched in its claws. Curious, Harry called off the bats, but had them follow it closely, and had all the rats on the third floor hide in areas that the owl wouldn't be able to get to (the vast majority of the rats were on the first or second floors, so there was enough room).

"What is it, lad?" Eddie asked.

"There's an owl flying towards us. It's carrying a letter," Harry explained.

"Y'serious?"

Harry nodded.

They waited, and the large brown and grey owl flew up to them and perched on the table, before holding out the letter in its claw. Harry took it, and saw that it was addressed to him in bright green ink.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Third Floor_

_The Abandoned Factory_

_London_

Harry opened the letter and began reading, before exclaiming,

"Eddie! This explains everything! The vermin, the Dursleys, setting Dudley on fire, _everything!"_

"Why? What's it say, lad?" Eddie asked excitedly.

"It says _I'm a wizard!" _Harry explained happily. "There's a school called Hogwarts that teaches magic and they've invited me to go there!"

Eddie looked at him carefully. On the one hand, the boy _did _have a strange ability. On the other, he didn't want his young friend to find out that this was some kind of cruel prank, and be heartbroken.

"Be careful now, lad. Ya don' know if they're pullin' yer leg er not. I've ne'er heard o' magic, nor Hogwarts. True, what yeh kin do is strange, but I've heard tell o' stranger things, and none of 'em included no wizards."

Harry frowned at this. What if it was just a joke? How could he find out?

"What should I do, Eddie? I don't think I could stand it if it was fake. How can I find out if it's real?"

"Well," said Eddie after looking over the letter, "It says here that they 'await your owl.' I take it that means you can give a response to this 'ere owl, and he'll take it to 'em. Ask 'em to come here 'n' prove it."

Harry smiled and looked at the owl, before yelping. It was diving for a rat who's nose was poking out from under the couch. Before he could do anything, it grabbed the rat by the nose, and, using its beak, killed it. Harry scowled, but didn't do anything- it wasn't Alphonse, who rarely left his pocket, and he'd seen rats die before in the fights with dogs and cats. He wanted to put his horde on the owl and kill it, but he knew he needed the bird to contact this Professor McGonagall.

Looking away from where the owl was eating the rat, Harry grabbed a pen and piece of paper and, with Eddie's help, wrote a reply.

_Dear Professor McGonagall,_

_ I'm afraid I have a hard time believing you. I've never heard of wizards or magic, beyond my own abilities, and while my abilities are unusual, they could have a different explanation. Either way, I have no money and no way of getting supplies. Please meet me at nine o'clock at..._

At this, Harry paused. "Hey Eddie, where do we live?"

After writing down the directions Eddie gave him and signed the letter, he added,

_P.S. Please don't send any more owls. This one killed one of my rats._

Harry reread the letter, and satisfied, gave it to the owl once it finished its meal. The owl took it in its claw and flew off.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Minerva McGonagall smiled as another acceptance letter was dropped on her desk, then frowned once she read it. Why on earth would Mister Potter want to meet her at an abandoned building? And she knew for a fact that that area of town was nowhere near where he lived- she had visited his relatives' house herself, after all, and while she didn't have the best mental map, especially of muggle London, she knew enough to know that this was too far away to be a hangout of Potter's.

Frowning even more deeply, she took out the school ledger, and opened to the last page, where the names and addresses of the latest batch of students would be magically recorded.

"Let's see," she mumbled to herself. "Parkinson... Patil... Pegg... Planer... Potter! Here we are! Address..."

Professor Flitwick was astonished when he found Professor McGonagall passed out in her office twenty minutes later. Wondering what had her so surprised, he looked at her desk, and found the school ledger.

Professor Snape was even more astonished to find them both unconcious, thirty minutes after that. Having no natural curiousity whatsoever, rather than investigate, he immediately brought them both round.

Another five minutes, and Albus too-many-names Dumbledore was running from a furiously yelling McGonagall while dodging hexes from an equally furious Flitwick.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

The next day, Harry could barely contain his excitement as he and Eddie waited by the entrance of the factory, repeatedly checking his watch. It was two minutes to nine, and as everybody knows, a wizard is never late. Harry checked his watch again. A minute thirty.

After the longest ninety seconds the universe had ever seen, there was a loud _crack, _and a man with a long white beard and equally long white hair appeared. He was wearing chartreuse robes with constantly changing, moving, shifting geometric patterns and swirls that shifted through the entire color spectrum (and sometimes beyond it).

Harry ran up to the man and asked him "Are you Professor McGonagall?"

The old man chuckled. "I'm afraid not, my boy. My name is Professor Dumbledore. We decided that it would be better if I came to meet you in person. I will be needing to speak with your relatives anyway when we return you home."

All the excitement Harry had been feeling faded away, and a sense of forboding filled Harry at these words. "What do you mean? You aren't planning to take me back to the Dursleys, are you?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Why, Harry, don't you want to see your family again?"

Harry shook his head vigorously. "The Dursleys aren't my family. And I _never _want to see those bastards again for as long as I live."

"I'm sorry Harry, but it's extremely important that you return to your relatives' house." Dumbledore said, reaching to touch Harry on the shoulder comfortingly.

Unfortunately, this was exactly the wrong thing to do. Harry had never been touched comfortingly in his life- the only physical contact he'd recieved from the Dursleys had been when they beat, shoved, pushed, or grabbed him, and Eddie wasn't the most affectionate sort. To Harry, the old man was reaching to grab him and force him back to the Dursleys.

In that light, Harry's response was quite natural. He yelled and jerked his arm back, before turning and running through a hallway. Dumbledore made to follow him, but a massive swarm of bats swooped down around him, circling and buffeting him so that he could not see. Quickly, Dumbledore summoned a gust of wind to blow them out of the way, and followed to the door at the end of the hallway.

Once Dumbledore opened the door, his heart sank. It was obvious that this building was as much of a maze as Hogwarts was. He was standing on a concrete walkway, and in front of him was a labyrinth of machinery, doors, and pipes.

Just as the wizard was trying to figure out what to do, he heard a low, wheezing chuckle behind him. Turning, Dumbledore saw the old man who had been waiting at the entrance with Harry.

"Unless ye've got a magic way o' mappin' this place out, ye'd best give up. It took us three months ta learn our way around the damn place. And tha' was before Harry decided it'd be smart ta set up booby traps."

Dumbledore frowned, then asked, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help me find him? It really is extremely important that he returns to his relatives."

"Fuck no," responded Eddie bluntly. "The only reason Harry is ever gonna go back ta those bastards is when 'e fin'ly decides ta kill 'em. They beat 'im, starved 'im, and used 'im as a slave. And he's never said nothing about it, but I recognize burn scars when I see 'em. Even a few knife marks on 'is arms. The best thing they ever did ta the lad was leavin' 'im 'ere."

Dumbledore's mind reeled. Arabella Fig had tried to warn him that the Dursleys were mistreating Harry, but Dumbledore had never believed it could have gone that far. When she said they worked him to the bone and didn't clothe him properly, he'd assumed it was just her usual grandmotherly manner. But knife and burn marks? No, Dumbledore had never believed it could have been so bad.

Tears fell from the old wizard's eyes as he realized what he had condemned the child of his favorite students to, and his head fell.

"I thought... I told them to..." Dumbledore stammered, unable to finish his sentence through the realization of what he'd done. "It was supposed to keep him safe. They were his mother's family. Surely, I thought, they would make a good home for their nephew? And how else could I protect him from Voldemort's followers? The charm was the only way I knew."

Eddie put his hand on Dumbledore's arm. "Maybe ye' should start at the beginnin'."

Dumbledore nodded, and, without thinking, told the old man everything. He spoke of wizards, of dark lords, of prophecies, of betrayal, and of murder. When he was finished, he was crying like he hadn't done since Arianna's death.

"... and Voldemort's followers were still out there, and I just _knew _that he wasn't truly dead, and his mother's sacrifice had created such a powerful protection, that it was the only thing I could think of to protect him. His relatives were supposed to care for Harry as if he were their own son. I never would have believed they would treat him so poorly." Dumbledore finished, still sobbing.

Eddie frowned.

"I unnerstan' why ya did it, but ya should have checked on the lad. Ya wouldda known how bad off he was."

"I _did. _I had a trusted friend move in near the Dursleys to keep an eye on young Harry. But then I didn't listen to her when she said that Harry was being mistreated." Dumbledore hesitated. "I didn't... _wouldn't _believe that I had made a mistake in placing Harry with his relatives. So I told myself Arabella was just exaggerating the situation, and I always found myself too busy to check on the situation myself. And..." Dumbledore abruptly stopped speaking and looked at Eddie with mounting horror. "Oh, god. I just told you everything, didn't I?"

Eddie nodded, "Aye, yeh did, but don' worry. I'll not tell a soul."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm so very sorry, but the things I told you here _must _remain secret, including from Harry. Harry is not yet ready to hear of his fate, and the knowledge is too dangerous to be allowed to fall into the hands of others. I'm very sorry," at this he took out his wand, "but... _obliv..."_

Before Dumbledore could finish the spell, a group of bats swooped down and attacked him. While Dumbledore was distracted, Eddie reached forward and grabbed the wand, yanking it out of Dumbledore's hands.

A look of horror came over Dumbledore's face, and he dove after the wand, ignoring the bats that were scratching at his skin. Eddie, however, had read enough fantasy to recognize a wand when he saw one, and had no intentions of letting Dumbledore anywhere near it. Being some fifty years younger than Dumbledore, and having been quite spry in his youth, Eddie was able to jump away from the wizard and run down the stairs into the factory main, where he quickly lost disappeared into the jumble of machinery and walkways.

Dumbledore stared in dismay at the spot where Eddie had disappeared with his wand, until he heard something. Turning, he was horrified to see thousands of rats and mice running towards him from every direction, teeth gleaming as they chittered and crawled over each other in their eagerness to get to their prey.

As desperate as Dumbledore was to retrieve the Elder Wand, he knew a lost cause when he saw one, and the rats were fast approaching. Quickly, the now wandless Dumbledore mentally called on Fawkes, and vanished in a flash of red and orange flames.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline**_

Wow. That was tough. I couldn't decide what would happen if the master of the Elder Wand were a muggle, and that threw me off this chapter for days. I have some ideas now, but nothing set in stone. If you have any ideas, send me a PM.


	4. Diagon Alley

After Dumbledore disappeared, Harry and Eddie came out from their hiding places to discuss the events of the day.

"Well, what do we do now?" Harry started. "I'm not sure I want to go to a school where the Headmaster attacks old men for no good reason."

"Nah, lad. If yer really on o' these wizards, you need to learn what you can do, and yeh need an education anyway. Besides, I don' think he was gonna hurt me. I'm not sure what he _was _gonna do, but I don't think he'da harmed me. He seemed like a good enough sort, especially if everything he said is true. Nah. Yer gonna go to this Hogwarts. The question is how we contact them to say so."

Eventually, Harry and Eddie decided that the wizards would likely contact them again, and they went back to their normal routine.

Sure enough, the next day, the rats told Harry that there were _lots _of _really big_ things downstairs. A quick investigation revealed a stern, middle aged woman and a tiny man with white hair and a beard to (relative to size) match Dumbledore's, both of whom were wearing robes.

"Hey Eddie, two more people in bathrobes just showed up in the lobby." Harry informed his friend.

"See? I told yah they wouldn't let yah go that easy. Let's go meet 'em." Eddie said.

Harry and Eddie made their way to the entrance of the factory, as Harry directed the rats to close in on the entrance room, just in case the wizard and witch tried anything.

"Hello," said Harry as he opened the door to the lobby, "I suppose you're here about Hogwarts?"

"Yes," said the stern looking middle aged woman. "I'm Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress, and this is Professor Flitwick. Professor Dumbledore felt it would be... unwise to come back here in person, but he did wish us to express his regret for his actions against you," she looked at Eddie as she said this, then reached into a pocket of her robes and withdrew an envelope. "He also gave me this letter for you, saying that there were things he needed to explain."

Eddie took the letter, opened it, and scanned its contents. As he progressed further along the letter, his eyebrows progressed further up his forehead until they were lost in his tangled mass of grey hair. Upon reaching the end, he folded it up and put it in his pocket.

"I think I'll have tah talk to him about this in person sometime. But that's business for another day. Today we're here to talk about Harry's education."

"Quite right. Hogwarts offers expert instruction in core subjects such as Transfiguration, Charms..."

"Actu'ly," Eddie interrupted with a slight cough, "the question isn't a matter of _if _he's gonna go. It's a matter of _how. _How does this school work?"

"Oh." McGonagall appeared quite surprised at this. "We rather expected it would be somewhat difficult to convince you, after your... altercation with the headmaster yesterday."

At this, Harry broke in. "I've already decided on that. I'll forgive the headmaster this time, but if he tries to attack me or my friends, _or _take me back to the Bastards, I'll kill him," the eleven year old boy stated bluntly.

McGonagall and Flitwick stared at Harry.

_This... _child _is threatening to kill Professor Dumbledore? And so casually? _McGonagall thought. Not even bothering to address the impossibility of a first-year student killing the most powerful wizard in the world, she looked around the room. The entrance to the factory, while it had once been a rather nice lobby, was now decrepit and overrun. It was clear that the boy was used to hardships, but... _murder? _Was he so jaded that he would be willing to kill?

Flitwick's thoughts seemed to be along the same lines. "Tell me, Mr. Potter," he squeaked. "Have you had cause to kill before?"

Harry glanced at Eddie, who shrugged, then turned back to Flitwick. "Yes, sir, I have," he said.

When it became clear that he was not going to elaborate, McGonagall asked, "I see. And do you feel no remorse for whoever you killed?"

To McGonagall's horror, the boy actually looked surprised at her question. "Why should I? They were warned, and they didn't listen. In fact, many of them came here already warned, and I _still _gave them a chance to leave." The time when he'd cried over every kill seemed so far away now that Harry didn't even think it of consequence. That had been a different Harry, a childish, boy who, though he had been through hardships, still had no idea what the real world was like- had no idea that killing was necessary to protect himself and the few people or things he cared about.

Seeing the look on McGonagall's face, Eddie decided to do a bit of damage control.

"Ye've gotta understan', professor, that Harry's lived a hard life. Even before he was dropped off here, the Bastards were cruel. I won't give details, that's Harry's to share, but suffice to say it was bad. After we set up shop here, we had trouble with trespassers, an' this ain't the safest area to be livin' in. The firs' group that came by was gonna kill us. If Harry hadn'ta done what he did, we'd be dead by now."

Flitwick figured that this was a good time to change the subject, so instead of asking exactly what Harry _had _done, he asked, "That's the second time now that you've refferred to 'the bastards.' May I ask to whom you're refferring?"

"The Bastards were my relatives. I don't use their names anymore- they aren't people, they're monsters, who I intend to take care of at the soonest available opportunity. They enslaved me, starved me, and tortured me, before throwing me out in the streets."

At this, McGonagall's eyes hardened- she'd _warned _Dumbledore not to leave the boy there, but _noooooo, _it was safest, it was best for everybody.

"Anyway," said Eddie, "That brings us back to our current situation. As you've likely noticed, neither of us has any money. I doubt we'll be able to pay for supplies for the lad, or for tuition. Also, we have no form of transportation to get Harry to and from the school. Or is it a boarding school?"

At this, Harry frowned. He hadn't considered this possibility. He hoped it wasn't a boarding school- he wouldn't leave Eddie to live here alone while he went off for who knew how much time. Unfortunately-

"Yes, Hogwarts is a boarding school. Harry will stay there nine months of the year, with two weeks vacation for the Christmas holidays."

"No." said the boy in question, "I'm not going to go to a boarding school and leave Eddie here."

Eddie looked touched, and began "Now see here, lad, ye've got to..."

"I don't care about my education, Eddie, if it means leaving you alone and without protection for nine months every year. It's not going to happen."

"What if we were to provide accomodation for Mr..." Flitwick broke off, realizing he didn't know the old muggle's name.

"Guff. Eddie Guff," the man provided.

"For Mr. Guff, then," finished Flitwick.

"What kind of 'accomodations' might that include?" Harry asked carefully.

"Well, Hogwarts has plenty of extra rooms. I'm certain that we could house him there. And I expect that Hagrid, our groundskeeper, or Mr. Filch, our caretaker, wouldn't object to an assistant, if you wish employment." Flitwick didn't say anything, because he didn't want to give false hopes, but he was actually planning to swing for a teaching position- Charity Burbage, bless her soul, didn't know a thing about muggles, and yet she'd been teaching about them for years.

Eddie and Harry looked at each other, then began nodding vigorously.

"If you could do that, we'd be forever in your debt, professor." Harry said.

McGonagall nodded, glad that one obstacle had been overcome. The next one, fortunately, was much easier.

"You also mentioned that you don't have any money. This isn't true at all. The Potters were an Ancient and Noble House, and one of the oldest and wealthiest of those houses. Money will not be an issue for you. In fact, I suggest that you look into the option of suing your relatives for fraud, since I am almost certain that they would have recieved, and are likely still recieving, a stipend for your well being."

Harry scowled, then grinned. If that were true, he could sue the Bastards for everything they owned. Then and there, his revenge plans changed drastically. He might still kill them, but before he did, he would _ruin _them. The thing that they valued most was their comfortable, normal lifestyle, and he would take that from him as surely as they'd taken it from him.

"I think that's everythin', then," said Eddie. "Where do we go to get his money and supplies?"

"Professors Flitwick and I will be taking Harry..." "and Eddie," Harry broke in. "Fine, and yourself, to Diagon Alley shortly. Our first stop will be Gringotts, the wizarding bank, to retrieve funds from Harry's Trust Vault."

"When do we leave?" Harry asked, finally eager once more.

McGonagall checked her watch.

"The Portkey activates in seventeen minutes," she replied. "We weren't sure how long this discussion would take, so decided to give ourselves some extra time. In the meantime, I suggest we make ourselves comfortable." As she finished, she drew out her wand and conjured four large, squishy armchairs, which Harry and Eddie didn't hesitate to sit in.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

"I am _never _using one of those again," Harry said firmly after he had regained his balance.

"I suggest you get used to it, Mr. Potter," said Flitwick happily. "While magic can do many things, for some reason we have yet to develop a comfortable method of travel. While travelling by Portkey _is _the most unpleasant of the lot, it's also the most reliable. Apparition is dangerous, and Floo travel can be intercepted, or you can get the address wrong."

Harry shook his head. Why couldn't wizards just use _cars, _for God's sake?

"Anyway, our first stop is Gringotts," McGonagall said, pointing at an enourmos white building at the end of the Alley.

At this, Harry looked around. His jaw dropped as he saw where they were. The sides of the narrow streets were lined with old-fashioned shops such as Eyelops Owls, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Florish and Blott's, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occaisions, and more. When he spotted the Magical Menagerie, it was all he could do not to go straight there- he couldn't wait to find out if there were magical rats or bats, and if so, what they could do.

"Professor? After we go to Gringotts, could we go there?" Harry asked, pointing at the Menagerie.

McGonagall smiled. Maybe there was some hope that the boy could be a normal child, after all, if he wanted a pet.

"Certainly, Mr. Potter. You'll be needing an owl anyway, and though Eyelops is better for them, Magical Menagerie does carry some."

Harry grinned. "Thank you, professor."

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

"That was so totally wicked!" shouted Harry as they got off the Gringotts cart for the second time. "How come wizards don't have something like that? Why do we have to use stupid portkeys?"

Flitwick grinned. "I'm afraid it would be impractical to set up a railway all around the country. I am glad to see you enjoy the Gringotts carts, though. Most wizards try to avoid them when possible."

"Why? That was amazing!" Harry said, as they made their way to the Magical Menagerie.

"Most sane people disagree with that opinion, I'm afraid," said a slightly queezy looking McGonagall as she separated the money they had withdrawn into two separate bags. "Now, Filius, why don't you and Eddie go pick up Harry's cauldron, potions supplies, and books while Harry looks at pets? Then he and I will go to Olivanders and Madam Malkin's."

"Can we wait till we split up?" Harry asked. "I want Eddie to be able to see my new pet."

McGonagall smiled again. Yes, there was certainly hope for the boy.

"I suppose so," she responded.

Harry grinned and grabbed Eddie's hand, pulling him towards the magical pet shop and through the door.

McGonagall smiled as she saw this display of normal, childlike behavior. The smile faded quickly, however, as Harry made a beeline for the section of the shop that housed the darker creatures- rats, crows, spiders, bats, and the like.

Harry was perusing the selection of bats when he heard a sharp "_Kaw!" _behind him. Turning, Harry saw a cage containing a large, black crow. He studied it, and it studied him back, before releasing another _"Kaw!" _and pecking at the lock.

Harry smiled- he had intended to get a bat, since he could control them directly, but there was something about the crow that he liked more.

"How much for the crow?" Harry asked the shopkeeper.

"Six galleons, eleven sickles," responded the man.

Harry looked at the crow, which was continuing to peck at the lock. "I'll take him," he said.

McGonagall sighed. This was _not _what she'd had in mind for a familiar for the boy. Crows were invariably associated with death and dark magic, and she didn't want Harry to have any more of that in his life than he already had.

Before she could object, however, Harry opened the cage and let the crow fly out of its prison. The bird did two quick flights around the room, and settled on Harry's head with a "_Kaw!"_

"What're yeh gonna name 'im, lad?" Eddie asked.

Harry considered this question for a moment, then remembered a character from a book he'd read recently.

"Carrion," he responded.

"After the Prince of Midnight?" Eddie asked.

"It seems fitting, doesn't it? And didn't Carrion have a thing for crows?"

McGonagall just put her head in her hands as Flitwick counted out the money.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

Well, sorry this took so long. It's a combination of writer's block, a horrible work schedule, and getting distracted by my new story, the Gamechangers (It's a Mass Effect AU where humanity has magic). If you can guess what book the name Carrion comes from, you get cake.

Also, I'd like to give a big thanks to jdg0l1n, ElementalMaster16, fanfictionnatic, Ddragon21, Ninggay, .com, Justpucky, Cirdan Mawish, Darkth Shadow, BlueFireMoon, and Kairomaru, all of whom took a few moments out of their time to tell me what they thought of my story.

Lastly, I would like to apologize to homeless people everywhere for my depiction of Eddie as uneducated. I am also aware that his backstory is not entirely reasonable. The thing is, there's more to Eddie than meets the eye.


	5. Welcome to Hogwarts

Originally, I was going to make the Diagon Alley trip longer, and split it into two parts so that you guys could get an update sooner. But then I started writing part two, and it was really fucking boring because the only real difference is what his wand is made of. So I decided "Screw that, I'm gonna skip to Hogwarts- that's where the fun starts." Unfortunately, that screwed up my plans, and I couldn't get a chapter out as soon as I wanted.

For those of you who like spoilers, I'll give you this much- the bastard is gonna show up at the end of this chapter.

**Previously on **_**Vermin Lord**__:_ When Harry accidentally set Dudley on fire, he was kicked out of the Dursleys' house. Away from Aunt Petunia's obsessive cleanliness, he encountered vermin for the first time, and discovered that he could control them. About a year later, he got his Hogwarts letter. Dumbledore came to visit Harry, and wound up telling Eddie, Harry's homeless friend, all about Harry and Voldemort. When Dumbledore tried to fix this by erasing Eddie's memory, Harry's vermin attacked him, and Eddie took his wand. A few days later, McGonagal and Flitwick show up and take Harry to Diagon Alley, where he gets, among other things, a crow familiar, which he names Carrion.

A huge thanks to **kairomaru, BlueFireMoon, Darkth Shadow, Cirdan Mawish, Justpucky, .com, Ninggay, Ddragon21, fanfictionatic, ElementalMaster16, jdg0l1n, mrwelsh24, and tylermech66 **for taking a few seconds out of their time to leave a review.

On a related note, did you know that "Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo" is a complete and grammatically correct sentence?

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreak**_

Harry sat on the last compartment of the train, examining his wand. It was eleven and a quarter inches long and made of elm with an acromantula (whatever that was) fang core. Eventually, he got bored of staring at his polished stick, and put it in the wrist holster he'd purchased for it, then traded it for one of his new books. Eddie had proved to have a great deal of foresight, and had purchased a book on conjuring and transfiguring various animals. It was a relatively advanced text, meant for students in their third year, but Harry had already read the theory in the transfiguration books for the first three years (Eddie had bought those, too, as well as a few books on hexes and poisons) and had performed a few simple conjurations. The spider spell, however, was giving him trouble. He could manage to get a tiny swarm with four or five spiders, but the spell was supposed to produce over a hundred. He was certain he wasn't messing up the visualization of the swarm- after all, he had seen huge swarms of animals, and it wasn't hard to replace rats with spiders in his mind. He was _pretty sure_ he wasn't messing up with his concentration, and he knew he wasn't messing up the desire for the spell to work. This suggested that there was something wrong with the mechanics of the spell.

"_Arachna examuno!" _Harry chanted angrily for the fifth time, this time with greatly exaggerated wand movements. Suddenly, a ball of spiders about twice the size of a baseball appeared and fell to the ground, before spreading to cover the entire floor.

"Really?" Harry asked in exasperation. "I just needed to make the wand movements bigger? What the hell?"

He tried again, this time moving his entire arm to make the wand movements as huge as he could.

He was slightly surprised when a pile of spiders about the size of his chest appeared and spread out over the floor.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreak**_

Ron Weasley was disappointed. He'd hoped to meet Harry Potter on the train to Hogwarts, but nobody had seen him. Somebody had reminded him that Potter was supposed to be taking the trip to Hogwarts on his Hungarian Horntail, and Ron's heart had sunk. He was supposed to meet Potter on the train! Then they'd become best friends and spend their years at Hogwarts skipping classes and getting into trouble and having adventures. Oh well. Once the Boy-Who-Lived was sorted into Gryffindor, Ron would just have to get to him before any of the other losers did.

With that thought, Ron slid open the door to the last compartment and stepped inside.

He was slightly surprised when a pile of spiders about the size of his chest appeared and spread out over the floor. So slightly suprised, in fact, that he fainted.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreak**_

Harry hadn't expected the compartment door to open right when he managed the spell, and he certainly hadn't expected the person to faint. Why had the boy fainted, anyway? Was he sick? Should Harry find a nurse? What should he do with all these spiders?

Actually, Harry realized, that last question was a moot point. With the door to the compartment open, the spiders had swarmed in that direction and started spreading throughout the train. Screams from other students and cries of _Incendio! _told Harry that the spider swarm had been found by the other students and was somewhat unwelcome. Unfortunately, he couldn't control spiders to have them hide themselves (he was only using the spell for practice before he moved on to mice and rats), so Harry just turned his attention to the unconscious wizard.

He was redheaded and covered in freckles, with a slightly smudged nose. His clothes were old and worn, but clean, and the wand in his right hand was clearly in poor condition. Altogether, the boy gave off an air of "not enough money," which struck Harry rather strongly. After all, for most of his life he'd been forced to wear Dudley's old hand-me-downs or whatever he could steal from the shops near the factory. It was only after his visit to Gringotts last month that he'd had money to buy decent clothes. Between that and the rat Harry could sense in the boy's pocket (which he quickly made a connection with), he felt something of a connection to the boy.

Making up his mind, Harry pulled the unconscious boy into the compartment and onto one of the seats. That done, Harry returned his attention to the book he was reading. The next spell on his list would create rats. He figured that would be useful if he were ever in trouble- rats were his preferred method of attacking enemies, after all, and he wouldn't always be near a swarm of them.

Actually, Harry remembered, he _would _always be near a swarm of them. Eddie, after seeing the various enchantments available for trunks, had ordered a specially made cage. It had shrinking/growing, weightless, and self cleaning charms, and was much, MUCH larger on the inside than it was on the outside. Harry would be able to fit about a hundred rats in the cage without having to worry about them being too cramped. The cage was also equiped with a magically refreshed air supply so that his swarm wouldn't suffocate, and several self-refilling bowls of food and water so that they wouldn't starve.

It wouldn't be finished for about a month, though, and until then, Harry needed a source of vermin. Plus, he couldn't always count on having the cage with him. What if he were in an emergency, like anything involving that Voldeshorts guy Dumbledore had been talking about, and didn't have his cage? And even if he did have his cage, he'd be limited to relatively small numbers of creatures until he could conjure more.

So, Harry went back to work. He started small, just trying to get a single rat. Swish, swirl, jab, incantation. Half a rat. Swish, swirl, jab, incantation. Two halves of a rat. Swish swirl jab, incantation. Most of a rat! Bingo! He just needed to expand the wand movements a little, and he'd have it. Swish, swirl, jab, incantation... and there it was. One large gray rat. Harry smiled as he forged a connection with the rat and sent it exploring the train. It would disappear after a few minutes (he didn't have enough power to make a long lasting conjuration), but he still might learn something from it.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreak**_

Ron woke up abruptly as something landed on his chest. Looking up, he saw a large crow studying him intently. "_Kaw!" _the bird let out, before jumping off and landing on the head of the only other person in the compartment, who reached up and stroked the bird's feathers.

"It's about time you woke up," the boy said calmly. "You've been out for nearly an hour now. Why'd you pass out, anyway?

Ron thought for a moment, then shuddered as he remembered exactly what had caused him to faint.

"I... I don't like spiders very much," he answered.

"Oh. Sorry about that. I was just practicing," the other boy replied. "I'm Harry, by the way. And this is Carrion. Say hello, Carrion."

"_He'o!" _the crow squawked.

"I'm Ron," the red-head said hesitantly. "What exactly were you practicing?"

"Conjuring animals," Harry responded.

Ron gawked. "But... that's advanced magic! You can't possibly be older than I am! We don't start conjuring until fourth year!"

Harry shrugged. "No reason not to get ahead," he said as he pulled out a small black book and began reading it, fiddling with his wand as he did so.

After a few minutes of silence, Ron was bored. "So, what quidditch team do you support?" he asked.

"I don't," Harry answered without looking up from his book.

"Oh."

A few minutes later, Ron tried again. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

"Slytherin."

"What? But Slytherins are dark! Everybody knows that!"

This finally got a reaction from the other boy, who slowly closed his book and glared at Ron.

"All of them? Really? Every Slytherin in history has been dark? What about Merlin, the greatest wizard in history? What about Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister of Magic?"

"Well... I guess..."

"Besides," Harry continued, "so what if they're dark? Dark magic sounds damned useful. That doesn't make it..."

"WHAT?!" Ron burst out. "You think dark magic is _good?"_

"No, I think it's _useful. _Magic isn't good or doesn't matter what spell you use, it's how you use it that matters."

"Don't be ridiculous! Dark magic is _evil, _and so is anybody who uses it! I should've known you were dark! Everybody knows crows are dark creatures, especially with a name like 'Carrion,' and how else would you be performing such advanced magic, unless you performed some dark ritual? I'm not going to sit here and listen to the spawn of some dark wizard!" With that, Ron got up and left.

"Idiot," Harry muttered. Thinking to have some fun with the ignorant boy, he took out one of the mice he had brought along with him (in addition to Alphonse, he always kept a few mice in his coat pockets) and had it scurry out the door before it closed. Then he lay down and closed his eyes, as if asleep, and sent his mind out to the mouse.

In the mouse's body, Harry turned until he spotted the red-headed boy entering a compartment further down the trian. The mouseboy scurried along the corridor, but couldn't make it to the compartment before the door was slammed shut. After a moment's thought, Harrymouse slipped into an open compartment and looked around. Under one of the seats, he found, to his surprise, a catflap. After sniffing around to make sure there weren't any actual cats in the area, Harry slipped through the catflap and into the next compartment. Across the isle and under the other set of seats, he spotted another catflap, which, again, he slipped through. Three more catflaps, and he was in Ron's compartment.

"... said he thinks dark magic is cool. He even admitted to having gone through dark rituals to make himself more powerful," Ron was saying.

"Wow," said another voice. "Who do you think he is?"

"Probably the son of some death eater. I'll point him out to you when we get off the train."

Scowling mentally, Harrymouse climbed to the cupboard above the seats, leaned his tail out over the boy's head, and emptied his tiny bowels.

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreak**_

"I still can't believe that mouse crapped on your head," a boy said as he got off the train.

"Do you _have _to keep going on about it?" came Ron's voice. "It was _two hours _ago. Why do you keep bringing it up?"

"Because it was _hilarious, _that's why," answered the first boy.

Harry smiled as he heard the conversation, then scowled as it changed.

"Hey, that's him!" Ron said.

"What? The death eater kid? Where?"

"Over there! Look, see his crow?"

"Oh! I see hi... Is the crow eating a toad?"

"TREVOR!"

_**linebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreak**_

Harry stared at the old, battered hat as it finished its song. _That _was the test that had had everybody so worried? He snorted, drawing a few wary stares from those nearby him.

_Damn that idiot!_ Harry thought to himself. As soon as the students had been alone, Ron had set about telling the other first years about the numerous dark rituals Harry had supposedly confessed to undergoing. Now most of the first years were either watching him warily, or giving him curious looks, as if wondering if he would be willing to share his knowledge of dark magic.

As Hannah Abbot was sorted into Hufflepuff, Harry saw his opportunity for revenge. Sitting next to a grizzled old man at the teachers' table was a small brown tabby cat. Immediately, Harry took control of Ron's pet rat, who Harry, in mouse form, had learned that the boy was rather attached to, and commanded it to attack the cat.

There were a few shrieks and screams as the rat (Shabbers?) abruptly jumped from the boy's pocket, and Ron lunged for the animal, but was too slow. A few moments later, a loud yowling was heard, and the tabby pounced on Shabbers. The rat struggled for a moment, then, as the cat raised its paw and extended its claws, to everybody's surprise, Shabbers began to grow.

Standing where Shabbers had been a moment before was a small, mousey man, with shabby robes and sparse brown hair. The man looked around him for a moment, then bolted for the door to the Great Hall, but was hit by three separate red bolts of light before he could make it.

"I am afraid," said Professor Dumbledore as he stood up, "that the Sorting will have to be postponed. Minerva, if you would bring Peter here to my office, we shall contact Madam Bones. It seems that there are questions that need answering."


	6. The Sorting

Since the last chapter generated so few reviews, I'll actually address them one by one.

**Ddragon21**\- No. Pettigrew wouldn't have made a good minion. He's a cowardly, no good, traitorous bastard. He dies, and dies painfully, in all of my stories. And as much as the idea amuses me, I will not be putting any Chip 'n' Dale characters into this fic. Maybe I'll do an Omake, though.

**ElementalMaster16**\- Thank you. I was proud of it, even if it was short as hell (even by my standards). The catflaps are there to give pets a way around the train. It made sense to me, given that Crookshanks and Trevor seem to have _some _way of leaving their owners' compartments.

**Darkth Shadow-** Yes. Yes he is.

**fanfictionatic**\- I actually hadn't thought about teacher reactions to those rumors... I'm gonna have to give that some thought. Damn.

Emily- In case anybody else wondered about that, Emily asked "_Does the fact that Harry can control Wormtail mean that he has enough power/talent/experience - take your pick - to control humans or is Pettigrew just that pathetic?" _The answer is "Neither." Harry was able to control the prick because he was in rat form, and Harry can control rats. As soon as Pettigrew transformed, Harry lost control. Harry can control any and all members of the rat, bat, or mouse species, and nothing else.

**jdg01ln**\- Thanks. It's nice to know that I've been missed. And no, I'm not a Ron fan. The only characters I like less than Ron are Snape, Umbridge, and Pettigrew. I don't even hate Voldemort as much as I hate Ron. I believe I have a rant about him in _TPHKN, _and I'll see if I can find my essay "Why Ron Weasley is the Worst Character in the Entire Harry Potter Series," so that I can post it on my profile. Other essays include "Why Harry Potter is the Most Incompetent Hero Ever," "In Defense of the Epilogue," and "Why I Think Snape Was Actually Evil" (In Progress). If anybody's interested in any of these, I'll put them on my profile (if I can find them).

**jh831**\- The reason Harry won't be a Ravenclaw is that he mostly reads to entertain himself. If he spent all of his time reading for the purpose of _learning, _he would be Ravenclaw material.

**Tylermech- **Thanks, as always, for your review. And I already have an animagus form in mind, sorry.

A huge thanks to all eight of you for taking a few seconds to leave a review.

By the way, an interesting tidbit I came across while rereading CoS for TPHKN- the students don't wear anything to show who's in what House. Most authors say something about some identifying mark- the color of the tie that the students wear, a pin or badge, something. However, when Ron and Harry are disguised as Crabbe and Goyle, they ask a student how to get to the Slytherin common room, only to be told that she's a Ravenclaw. That implies that they didn't have any way of telling the difference. Just a fun fact.

Lastly, if you've read TPHKN, you know that I don't feel it makes sense for the entire Slytherin house to be evil, or that every evil student was in Slytherin- to that end, I decided that only Draco and his crowd were bastards, and everybody else was okay. I also put bullies in the other houses. You may also remember that I added OCs to inflate the student count, because in cannon, there are only a little over two hundred students at Hogwarts altogether. In this story, I won't be doing either, simply because I try to avoid using the same idea twice. Slytherins are gonna be bastards, and only Slytherins will be bastards, and the only students will be those mentioned in the books, with a few possible exceptions.

There. Now that I've inflated the word count a little (600-700 words, not counting the "Previously on Vermin Lord" bit), I'll get to the actual story.

**Previously on **_**Vermin Lord**__:_ When Harry accidentally sets Dudley on fire, he is kicked out of the Dursleys' house. Away from Aunt Petunia's obsessive cleanliness, he encounters vermin (bats, rats, and mice) for the first time, and discovers that he could control them. About a year later, he gets his Hogwarts letter. Dumbledore comes to visit Harry, and winds up telling Eddie, Harry's homeless friend, all about Harry and Voldemort. When Dumbledore tries to fix this by erasing Eddie's memory, Harry's vermin attack him, and Eddie takes his wand. A few days later, McGonagal and Flitwick show up and take Harry to Diagon Alley, where he gets, among other things, a crow familiar, which he names Carrion. Harry later meets Ron Weasley on the train to Hogwarts, and makes the mistake of saying that he thinks Dark Magic sounds useful, and that he doesn't think magic can be inherently good or bad. Ron takes this to mean that Harry, whose identity he doesn't know, is a dark wizard, and begins telling everbody on the train that "that kid with the crow" had gone through secret dark rituals to enhance his power. At the Sorting, Harry takes his revenge by having Ron's pet rat attack the caretaker's cat. To everybody's surprise, the rat transforms into a man, who is then attacked by Proffessors Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

Harry and the unsorted first years were currently sitting and eating dinner at a fifth table in the Great Hall. They had spent the night in conjured sleeping bags in a small room near the entrance to the castle. That morning, Professor Dumbledore had announced that he had urgent business at the Wizengamot (whatever that was), and as such, the Sorting would have to be delayed again. Nobody had seen him the rest of the day, and the other students were heatedly debating what was going on.

About halfway through the meal, the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professor Dumbledore entered once more. The students fell silent as he marched his way to the staff table, where he slowly sat down. It dawned on many of the students that Dumbledore was, in fact, very old.

A few moments of silence passed, before Dumbledore, without standing, began to speak.

"Yesterday, something strange occurred. A rat jumped out of a boy's pocket and ran _towards_ a cat. Upon being attacked by the cat in question, something even stranger occurred. The rat transformed into a man. A man who many of your teachers recognized, and believed to be dead. This man was Peter Pettigrew." A low murmer spread throughout the Hall, before falling silent as Dumbledore spoke again. "This brought about various questions. Namely, how was he alive when so many people had seen him murdered, alongside twelve others, by one Sirius Black over ten years ago, a crime for which Black was tried and imprisoned for life. Some few of you may know of Black's other crime, the betrayal of James and Lily Potter to the Dark Lord Voldemort." There were a few gasps at Voldemort's name, but for the most part, everybody was listening too intently to the Headmaster's story to remember that they were superstitious. "There was great injustice done ten years ago." Dumbledore sighed. "It would seem that Pettigrew, not Black, was the true perpetrator of both crimes. He, not Black, blew up a streetfull of muggles with a blasting curse, and he, not Black, informed Lord Voldemort of the Potters' location. Pettigrew has now been imprisoned in Azkaban, and Sirius Black, now Lord Black, is currently under the care of the Saint Mungo's Healers. The man responsible for this injustice is one Bartimus Crouch Senior, who imprisoned the captured Sirius Black without a trial. I tell you this not to slander Mr. Crouch's name, but to remind you that all of us, regardless of our blood, wealth, status or power, can make mistakes. Do not fall into the trap of hubris. Remember that you are flawed, and your mistakes will be all the fewer for it."

With that, Dumbledore stopped talking, and nodded to Professor McGonagall, who then stepped forward with the Sorting Hat and its stool.

"We will now resume the Sorting. Again, when I call your name, please step forward and put on the Hat, then sit on the stool until you are Sorted. Bones, Susan."

Susan was sorted into Hufflepuff, then Terry Boot was made a Ravenclaw, then Harry stopped paying attention until his name was called.

"Potter, Harry."

Harry stood from the table and made his way to the stool, Carrion on his shoulder, where he put on the Hat. Almost immediately, it shouted out "SLYTHERIN!"

There was a roar of applause for a few seconds, which quickly died down as the students realized what they'd heard. Whispers filtered through the hall.

"Slytherin, did it say?"

"A Potter, in Slytherin?"

"Thought he was a Lion for sure!"

And, of course, "See- I told you he was Dark! Didn't think he was Potter, though."

Harry rolled his eyes and resigned himself to a year of whispers, then made his way to the table with the green and silver banner above it, where he sat down away from the other students.

A few minutes later, a boy named Draco Malfoy was sorted into Slytherin. To Harry's surprise, the blonde boy came straight towards where he was sitting.

"Hello, Potter," Draco said, sitting down. "As you already know, my name is Draco Malfoy. My family is one of the most powerful in the wizarding world. And if what I heard about you is true, we may be able to help you a great deal."

"And what, exactly, did you hear?" Harry asked, though he knew the answer already.

"Well, I'm not stupid enough to think that there's any truth behind Weasley's claims that you've gone through dark rituals. I happen to know from my father that you've been forced to live with _muggles,_" Draco spat the word as if it were a particularly nasty obscenity,_ "_so you wouldn't exactly know any. But if you're really interested in true power, let me know."

Harry considered this. As he'd told Ron, he wasn't worried about whether magic was "dark" or "light," so long as it was useful. He had some limits- he wouldn't harm an innocent too badly, for example, but for the most part, if it helped him or Eddie, he wouldn't mind doing it.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry finally replied. He doubted he would ever be _friends _with Draco, but the boy might prove a useful ally. And if he truly was a member of one of the most powerful families in the Wizarding World, Harry didn't want to make the boy an enemy. One of the most important things Harry had learned in his short life was that the less attention he drew to himself, the better. When he'd been with the Dursleys, any attention involve a beating (or worse), a new chore, or going to his cupboard, usually without food. After he'd moved into the factory, attention had involved people threatening him or Eddie.

Draco nodded, satisfied, and moved away to sit with a small gorilla named Gregory Goyle, and another gorilla whose name Harry couldn't remember.

A few minutes later, the sorting finished with "Zabini, Blaise" being sorted into Slytherin, and Dumbledore stood up again.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, before we begin our feast, I have an introduction to make. Many of you have likely noticed a new face among the staff today," Dumbledore gestured to where Eddie was sitting next to a middle aged red-headed woman. "Mr. Eddie Guff is a specialist in the field of Muggle Studies, and will be joining Professor Burbage in teaching her classes this year. In addition, he will be aiding Mr. Filch in his duties as caretaker. Please give him a warm welcome as he joins our faculty this year."

There was a smattering of applause, though Harry easily clapped the hardest, and was the only one at the Slytherin table to show any kind of appreciation at all. In fact, many of the Slytherins were glaring at Eddie as if he'd done something wrong, somehow. When Harry started clapping enthusiastically, some of these glares were transferred to him, as well. Harry wondered idly what Eddie could have done to earn such ire from the Slytherins, but didn't think too much on it.

After the applause died down (which took about twenty seconds), Dumbledore clapped his hands and sat down. As soon as his hands met, food appeared on the plates covering the tables. Harry had never seen so much food in one place, and couldn't even name many of the items he saw. Eagerly, he grabbed a pair of drumsticks from a nearby roast chicken and dug in.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

After dinner, the Slytherins were led by two sixth years (the prefects, Draco told Harry) to their common room in the dungeons. The common room was a long, underground room with a low cieling from which hung lamps that gave off a greenish glow. Above an elaborately carved fireplace was a portrait of a bald man with a pointed gray beard scowling down at the room with a look of utmost contempt on his face. Unlike most of the pictures Harry had seen in his limited time in the Wizarding World, this one didn't move in the slightest.

The two prefects lined the first years up in a line before the fireplace, then took places in front of the new students.

"My name is Granville Young," said the boy. "This is Gemma Farley. We are, as you should know," his eyes fell on Harry briefly, "the Slytherin prefects. During your time at Hogwarts, you will obey our word without fail. You obey our orders, and in return, we will protect you from the hatred of the... weaker... houses. And make no mistake, the other houses _will _hate you. Your sorting into this house has made you a pariah among the other students. Even once you leave this school, you will face hatred from other former students for your position in this, the greatest of the Hogwarts Houses. You will have to fight to get ahead in life. Because of this prejudice, I will not have fighting within this House in front of outsiders. Any grievances you have with a member of this House _must _be settled within this room. To show discord among ourselves is to show weakness. Should we show even an ounce of weakness to the other Houses, we will be torn apart. Our House, the House of the Great, is at war with the others. As such, no actions taken against students outside Slytherin will be punished, even by Snape. When we stand together, we rule this school, and, eventually, the Wizarding World itself. Do you all understand?"

There was a chorus of "Yes, sirs" from the first years.

"Good. Boys, follow me and I will take you to your dormitory. Girls, go with Farley." The boys followed Young down a staircase into a long corridor with a number of doors on each side. Young led them all the way to the last door and stopped.

"This is your room," he said. "Your things have already been brought in, and are beside your assigned bed. You are not to enter the dormitories of the older students for any reason unless you are specifically granted permission. Curfew for first years is eight o' clock. Good night." With that, he opened the door and shooed the students in, closing it behind Goyle, who was the last to enter.

The Slytherin boys quickly moved to find their trunks, then climbed into their beds.

"So, what do you think, Potter? Better than the muggles?" Malfoy asked after a little while.

"It's definitely better than the ones _I _lived with," Harry responded.

Theodore Nott sat up abruptly. "You lived with _muggles?_" he asked, disgust clear in his voice."No wonder you were clapping for that old geezer. Filthy muggle lover."

Harry turned and glared at the boy. "Firstly, let me make one thing clear. That 'geezer' is my friend. Do _not _insult him in front of me. Secondly, I _hated _the muggles that I lived with, but not all muggles are bad. Some of them can be quite nice."

"Who cares if they're _nice_?" Nott said. "They're _muggles. _They should be wiped out like the vermin they are." Harry's glare intensified at the statement that vermin should be wiped out at all. "They're hardly more than animals anyway."

"Really? They're just animals?" Harry said, feigning curiousity. "No intelligence at all?"

"Exactly," Nott answered, nodding.

"Then why are wizards so terrified of them?" Harry asked. "Why do they wipe the minds of any muggle who finds out about magic?"

"We're... we're not terrified!" Nott spluttered. "Wizards are superior! We're..."

"Hiding." Harry interrupted. "We're _hiding. _From animals. They must be some fucking dangerous animals, then."

Nott opened his mouth, then shut it again. "I knew you were a muggle lover," he finally said, before rolling over and pulling up his blankets. As Nott used his wand to put out the lamp beside him, Harry heard him muttering to himself, "I can't believe filth like that made it into Slytherin."

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

The next couple of days were remarkably boring for a magic school. Each class consisted of a roll call, then a speech about why this was the most important and difficult of the classes (Harry assumed that was what Quirrel was talking about), and then a list of safety rules, most of which were the same for each class.

The only variation from this was Potions. After roll (during which Snape seemed to twitch when he came across Harry's name), Professor Snape gave a speech, not about the importance or difficulty of his class, but about its potential and how it differed from other branches of magic. Snape then skipped any form of instruction or safety lesson, and had the students brew a potion from directions on the board, while he walked around and insulted the Gryffindors. Just as Snape began to change tactics to praising the Slytherins for their expertise, there was a loud hissing noise and a cloud of acrid green smoke filled the air. One of the Gryffindors, a nervous, slightly pudgy boy with blonde hair, had melted his cauldron into a smoking metal ball, from which a smoking green fluid was spreading across the floor. One girl screamed, and everybody turned to see the failed potion eating away at her shoes. A moment later, they were all standing on their chairs while the blonde boy whimpered in pain from the large, red boils which were appearing all over his body.

"Idiot boy!" snapped Snape as he vanished the potion, which was beginning to dissolve the legs of the chairs, "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? Can't you read directions, Longbottom? You-" Snape pointed at Longbottom's partner, "take him to the hospital wing. And five points from Gryffindor for your stupidity, Longbottom."

An hour later, Malfoy was still chuckling to Goyle as they climbed up the stairs out of the Potions room.

"I mean, I knew Longbottom was an idiot, but did you see the look on his _face?_" he asked Harry.

Harry was just about to tell Malfoy to stop following him around when Snape called out.

"Potter! Stay here and help me clean up this mess."

Eager to get away from Malfoy, who seemed to think he and Harry were friends, Harry nodded and moved to clean up the bits of cauldron that were left from the explosion that had occurred when Pansy Parkinson added the dried nettles after the horned slugs.

When they were done, Snape turned to Harry.

"Come with me, Potter," he said, then swept through the door behind his desk, leaving a slightly confused Harry to follow behind him.

Snape's office was dark and creepy, much like the professor himself. Shelves lined the walls, filled with animals and parts of animals floating in unidentifiable liquids. A dark, desolate fireplace was at the back of the room, and one corner had a cauldron filled with a dark, green liquid.

Snape sat down in a high-backed leather chair behind an ornate mahogany desk, then indicated a small wooden chair for Harry to sit in. After they were both seated, Snape looked Harry in the eyes for a moment, and Harry had the distinct impression that Snape was _looking _for something. After a brief stare down, Snape finally leaned back in his chair and spoke.

"Tell me, Potter. Are you stupid, or are you truly even more arrogant than your father?" he asked.

"I'm sorry?" Harry was confused. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't this.

I suppose you thought it was funny, didn't you? Or were you simply after attention, like your prat of a father?

I'm sorry, what are you talking about?"Harry asked, trying to maintain his temper.

I'm talking about telling everyone on the train that you'd gone through 'dark ritual.' It didn't occur to you that you, the little princeling, might face the _consequences _of your actions, did it? Nooo, not the Lord Potter. Lord Potter is immune to the rules of us _common _folk. Well you listen here, you spoiled little brat...

"That's enough, Professor," Harry interrupted, cutting Snape off short. "Firstly, this story that I claimed to have gone through dark rituals- it's bullshit. Ron Weasley made that up because he's an idiot. Secondly, I'd like to make one thing clear. I don't know whatever delusions you're under, but I _am not spoiled. _The relatives that Dumbledore left me with tortured and enslaved me, until they eventually threw me out. I've been _on the fucking streets _for a _year _now, do you understand?"

Snape stared at Harry for a moment, then, to his surprise, burst out laughing. "Tortured and enslaved you? What did they do, little Lord Potter? Spank you when you didn't clean your room? Make you go without dessert for tracking dirt into the house?"

Harry stood up sharply and, to Snape's surprise, took off his robes.

"Do you see this scar?" Harry asked the wide-eyed professor. "My uncle put out his cigar by rubbing it into that spot one day whenever I didn't weed the garden well enough. This here is when he took a steak-knife to my arm for undercooking his hamburger. I was nine at the time. This is from when my cousin pushed me into a fireplace when I was seven, and these ones on my back are for the whipping I got for screaming loudly enough that the neighbors called the police. This is another cigar burn for breaking a dish while I was doing the washing up when I was six. This one..."

"Enough," said Snape hoarsly. "I understand. Why... why didn't you tell anybody?"

Harry laughed coldly at this. "I tried once. I spent a week in my cupboard- oh yeah, I was locked in a boot cupboard whenever I wasn't working. And the one time I told anybody, the Bastard beat me until I was unconscious, then locked me in my cupboard for a week, and told everybody that I had schizophrenia- said it ran in my family. He told me that if I ever squealed again, he'd put me in the fireplace. I never mentioned it again."

Snape stared at Harry for a while longer, then stood up.

"I'm going to have a word with Headmaster Dumbledore. Please wait here until I return."

Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore knows. He may not know how bad it was, but he knows enough. And if he knew more, he'd have them arrested. I don't want that."

"Why not? Surely you want them punished?"

"Yes, but I want them punished on _my _terms." Harry said. "They made me suffer, it's only fair that I return the favor. I want them to forget about me. Think I'm dead. Then, I'll take away everything they ever loved."

Snape looked Harry in the eyes as he said this, and shuddered.


	7. Bad Ideas

So, I'm really struggling with _The Power He Knows Not_. I would greatly appreciate ideas for chapters. If there's something you want to see, send me a pm or leave a review with your idea. Otherwise, it's gonna be a while before I get an update out.

Also, I've started a new story of all original material, titled _We Became As Gods._ It's posted on the "Humanity Fuck Yeah!" Subreddit. There's a link on my profile.

Lastly, my laptop is doing really weird shit every time I save a word document. If there are typos, errors, or problems of any kind when I post a story, please let me know. Especially tell me if there seems to be a portion of the story missing entirely, but what's more likely to occur is missing punctuation or spacing. There were a number of errors like this in the previous chapter, which I have now fixed.

Now, before we begin, I will address reviews.

**lokarryn- **Thank you. I strive for "interesting," since I can't manage "good."

**ElementalMaster16- **Sorry this took so long. I've been very busy.

**Light Lord Cybergate- **Snape _did _see another Riddle in Harry. That's what scared him so badly.

**anwan7- **Thank you! It's always nice to get a new reader.

**noulis- **Now that is a tremendous compliment. Thank you very much for that. And Carrion will deliver mail, though Harry doesn't have anybody to send it to.

**Tylermech66- **As always, thank you. I think you might be the only person who avidly reads all of my stories, and we definitely seem to understand each other. Harry can control _vermin, _not rodents. He has powers over any member of the mouse, bat, or rat species, and only members of those species. It's worth noting that bats aren't actually rodents. Until I found out about that, this story was going to be _Rodent Lord, _and he would have been able to control all rodents. Unfortunately, there aren't any flying rodents, and I wanted him to have one flying species. As for magical species, I am considering adding a magical species of vermin that he can control. **If anybody has ideas for that, please let me know.**

Oh, before we begin- I'm looking to write for Alex Mercer again. My ideas are either A) rewrite Protomage, B) a Prototype/Dragon Age Origins xover, C) A Prototype/Fallout 3 xover, or D) a Prototype/Mass Effect xover, featuring a (possibly uneasy) alliance between Protoforms/Blacklight (led by Alex, of course) and humanity. I'll put up a poll to see what you guys want.

**Previously on ****_Vermin Lord_**_:_When Harry accidentally sets Dudley on fire, he is kicked out of the Dursleys' house. Away from Aunt Petunia's obsessive cleanliness, he encounters vermin (bats, rats, and mice) for the first time, and discovers that he could control them. A year later, he gets his Hogwarts letter. Dumbledore comes to visit Harry, and winds up telling Eddie, Harry's homeless friend, all about Harry and Voldemort. When Dumbledore tries to fix this by erasing Eddie's memory, Harry's vermin attack him, and Eddie takes his wand. A few days later, McGonagal and Flitwick show up and take Harry to Diagon Alley, where he gets, among other things, a crow familiar, which he names Carrion. Harry meets Ron Weasley on the train to Hogwarts, and makes the mistake of saying that he thinks Dark Magic sounds useful, and that he doesn't think magic can be inherently good or bad. Ron takes this to mean that Harry, whose identity he doesn't know, is a dark wizard, and begins telling everbody on the train that "that kid with the crow" had gone through secret dark rituals. At the Sorting, Harry takes his revenge by having Ron's pet rat attack the caretaker's cat. To everybody's surprise, the rat transforms into a man, who is then attacked by Proffessors Dumbledore, Flitwick, and McGonagall. The next day, Dumbledore announces that the man was Peter Pettigrew, who had framed Sirius Black for mass murder and the betrayal of the Potters, and warns the students of the dangers of hubris before continuing the Sorting, at which Harry is put into Slytherin. After the Sorting, Dumbledore announces that Eddie will be helping the Muggle Studies professor and the caretaker in their duties, and a boy named Draco Malfoy offers his help if Harry is interested in "true power." After their first potions lesson, Snape berates Harry for spreading rumors of his "dark rituals," and calls Harry spoiled. Harry responds by showing Snape the scars he got from his abuse from the Dursleys.

**An important note: **I'm looking for ways to make Carrion special among familiars. Yes, he already has speech, but I want something else. If you have ideas, let me know. Also, as for the speech, that's actually more believable than you think. In real life, crows can learn a few simple words. When I worked at a wildlife center, there was a crow who said "Hello Nathan," whenever I fed it (yes, Nathan is my name). I even eventually taught it to say something that sounded kinda like "Nevermore." It made sense to me that a magical crow would be able to master a larger vocabulary, and actually know what it's saying, as well.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

After their talk, Snape didn't so much as look at Harry for a full week. Harry also managed to get Malfoy to leave him alone through the tactic of being generally boring, which caused the blonde boy to quickly lose interest in him.

Once Harry was rid of Malfoy, he began exploring the castle and assimilating any vermin he encountered into his horde. Within a week, he controlled far more vermin than he had at the factory, and they were in every corner of the castle, acting as spies and guardians for him and Eddie.

Thanks to his spies, he knew every inch of the castle, and practically everything that went on in it. He knew that Filch was something called a "squib," and was taking classes to overcome this. He knew that Professor Sinastra was secretly dating Professor Vector and that the two were terrified of being discovered, as homosexuality was deeply frowned upon by the wizarding society. He knew that the Weasley twins were plotting to shampoo Snape's hair, with the help of Peeves. He even knew that Professor McGonagall would be giving a pop-quiz to the fifth years on the proper wand movements for an animal-to-animal transfiguration, and the latin names of the various animals they might use.

He also knew things that were much more interesting. He knew that Quirrel was snooping around the forbidden third-floor corridor. He knew that inside that corridor was a Cerberus. He knew that the Cerberus was the first obstacle in a series, and that at the end of the obstacle course was a large room with a raised platform in the middle. He knew that behind a certain brick in this room was hidden a small, red stone.

Of a more immediate concern, he knew that a group of fifth and sixth years was planning to attack Eddie on his way to Professor Burbage's classroom. Apparently, they suspected Eddie of being a muggle (which, admittedly, he was, but they didn't really have any reason to think that), and were going to "have a bit of fun with the filth."

Harry sat back in his chair in the common room with his eyes closed, concentrating on the vermin in Eddie's area. At his command, they moved in on his friend's position, but remained hidden for now. Harry waited patiently as the fifth years closed in on Eddie.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

"'Scuse me," said Eddie to the burly student in front of him. "I need ta get ta Pr'fessor Burbage's room. 'm late fer a lesson."

"Oh, I don't think you'll be making it there, _muggl,_" said a voice from behind him. Eddie turned as two more students stepped out from behind a statue, at the same time as another three appeared from a tapestry to his left. He was surrounded, yes, but he wasn't terribly concerned. Eddie knew that Harry's horde was around, and Harry had always taken care of him before.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

"I'm talking to you, Potter!" said Nott, slapping Harry across the face. Harry jumped as his mind returned to his body, causing him to lose control of the horde that was to be responsible for protecting Eddie.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

Eddie dodged a bright yellow spell that came from the first speaker, then rolled to the side, allowing a purple spell to fly past him. Where was Harry? He could hear the chittering of the vermin, and saw the bats swooping around above, but they weren't intervening!

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

"Leave me alone, Nott. I'm busy," Harry said, praying that he would be able to get rid of the idiot in time.

"I don't think so. See, I've been hearing some funny things about that new 'professor' that you like so much- the old fart who helps Professor Burbage. Things like, he never uses a wand, and he uses muggle pens instead of quills. Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it? My older brother and a few friends have decided to get together and... test him, so to speak."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Your brother's fucked, then, if he's messing with Eddie. Carrion, could you get rid of this idiot?"

"Shoor theen," the crow croaked, and launched itself off of its perch on Harry's shoulder at Nott. Nott yelled and raised his arms as the crow began flapping around him, batting at him with his wings.

Harry closed his eyes and returned to his vermin.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

Eddie was starting to get genuinely worried. He wasn't as spry as he had been in his youth, and he could tell the students were just toying with him. Was Harry in trouble too? That was the only reason he could think of for why the lad wouldn't be helping him.

Finally, Eddie slipped up. He dodged left, and moved directly into an evil looking purple spell, which struck him right in the chest.

Then...

Absolutely nothing happened.

Eddie was so stunned that he simply stood there for a moment, allowing his attackers to launch another pair of spells at him, one striking him in the back, the other in the chest. Again, nothing happened.

"What the hell?" asked one of the students, an ugly sixth year girl as Eddie grinned widely. A moment later, all seven students launched spells at Eddie, who simply stood there and let them hit him. Again, no effect.

Eddie looked up as a bat landed on his head, and saw that there was a swarm of hundreds of bats circling above him. A moment later, rats and mice began crawling out of holes in the walls, swarming, crawling, and chittering angrily as they formed a sea of flesh around Eddie and his attackers.

Eddie grinned- whatever had been keeping the boy occupied was gone now.

The elderly man turned to the student who had called him "filth," and smiled nastily.

"Now, it's _my _turn," he said dramatically. "Don't hurt them, just scare them a little. Oh, and break their wands, if you don't mind," Eddie said as the vermin around him rushed forward.

The bats swooped down and began fluttering around the attackers, beating them with their wings and slashing with their claws. The mice and rats climbed up the robes of the screaming students, who tried to run, but couldn't get past the hordes of bats blocking their exits. Eddie waited calmly as the bats grabbed the wands of the terrified students and dropped them into the horde of chittering mice and rats, who quickly chewed through the thin pieces of wood.

"Okay, I think that's enough. They've learned their lesson," Eddie said. Immediately, the bats retreated to the ceiling, and the rats and mice withdrew to their holes.

Eddie walked around and picked up the wand pieces off of the ground, then surveyed the damage done by the vermin. The students weren't hurt too badly, as he'd requested, but they were definitely hurt. Shallow scratches covered every inch of exposed skin, their robes had been torn to shreds, leaving the students in their underwear, and several of them had collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

"Now, have we learned a little lesson?" Eddie asked politely.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

Harry opened his eyes again. Nott was gone, and Carrion was sitting perched on a nearby chair.

"Where'd Nott go?" Harry asked his familiar.

"'Ospi'al," said Carrion.

"The hospital wing? How badly'd you hurt him?" Harry asked.

"Li'l scrash."

"A little scratch? And he went to the hospital wing?"

"Big scrash?"

Harry laughed and patted his shoulder for Carrion to hop onto. "Well, as long as it's not _too _big a scratch, we shouldn't get in trouble," he said. "Now come on. It's time for flying lessons, and I know you don't want to miss that."

Carrion _kaw_ed once in agreement as he landed on his master's head, ignoring the proffered shoulder.

"Flyin' goo_'!" _the crow said.

"You know," Harry commented as they left the common room, "we _really _need to work on your pronunciation. Say 'good,' and make sure you get the 'd' this time."

"Goos. Goos. Goo. Goo'," said the crow, trying his hardest to prounounce the word properly.

"Okay, that's not working. Let's try the letter 'd' on its own. Tap the middle of your tounge against the top of your beak," Harry instructed.

"Tuh," said the crow.

"No, no. That's the tip of your tounge. The _middle_, not the tip. Like this- duh."

"Tuh, tuh, thuh, duh," croaked the bird, then "Ah got it!"

"Excellent!" said Harry as he walked through a tapestry. "Now combine it with the 'goo' from 'good. Like this- 'gooduh.'"

"Gooduh," said Carrion.

"Perfect! Now just take off the 'uh', and you'll have the word 'good.'"

"Goot. Goot. Gooduh. Gooduh. Good. Good! Good!" Carrion _kaw_ed happily and flapped his wings.

Harry smiled as his familiar began chanting the word "good" over and over again, then hushed his friend as they approached the end of the passageway. "Okay, Carrion. Time to quiet down," he said as he slid aside the painting that blocked the exit and stepped out. Carrion let out one more cry of "Good," then fell silent.

Harry looked arund to get his bearings, and set off once again.

A few minutes later, Harry and his familiar arrived at the Quidditch Pitch. Twenty brooms were lying in two rows in the grass. A few Slytherin students had already arrived, and were waiting in a small group, which was watched over by a hawk-like lady with short, grey hair.

"All right, Carrion. You take off for a little while. Once we start flying, you can come join us, okay?"

"Okay!" croaked the crow as he launched himself off of Harry's head.

Harry walked over to the Slytherin end of the "classroom" and sat down a short distance away from the other students, then laid back in the grass and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, he got up again as Alphonse (who never left Harry's side), alerted Harry that a second group of students, presumably the Gryffindors, was approaching. Harry brushed the grass off of his robes, then walked over to stand by the other Slytherins.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch said sharply as the Gryffindors and Slytherins stood in small huddles on either end of the line of brooms. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up!"

Quickly, the students rushed to pick a broomstick that didn't look to be in _too _bad a condition. Harry found himself next to Daphne Greengrass, standing over a dilapidated old broomstick that didn't look suitable for sweeping, much less for flying. Many of the twigs were broken and sticking out at odd angles, the shaft was crooked, and there was a noticable spot where something seemed to have taken a bite out of the tail.

"Now put your hand over the broom and say 'Up!'" explained Madam Hooch.

"Up!" everyone shouted. Harry's broom, to his surprise, jumped into his hand immediately, as did some of the purebloods', but most of them just rolled over or gave a slight hop (Nevill Longbottom's didn't move at all). Once everybody had gotten their broom to jump into their hand (or, in Longbottom's case, just picked the damned thing up), Madam Hooch showed the students how to mount and hold their brooms.

"Now when I blow my whistle," said Madam Hooch, "kick off from the ground hard. Keep your broom steady, let it rise a few feet, then come back down to the ground by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

There was a loud yelp from the Gryffindor end of the line, and everybody turned. Longbottom, it seemed, had pushed off early, and was flying into the air like a bottle rocket.

"Come back, boy!" called Madam Hooch.

Harry saw Longbottom's terrified face as the boy shot into the air, quickly reaching thirty feet. The students watched as the broom began to shake and Longbottom began to shout, then as the boy's hands came loose. Harry glanced at Madam Hooch, wondering what she would do, but she was just standing there, shouting for Longbottom to come back down. When Harry looked back up, Longbottom was falling from a hight of at least fourty feet.

_WHAM!_\- Longbottom hit the ground hard, and there was a nasty "Crack!" that Harry recognized as the breaking of a bone. Madam Hooch rushed forward and bent down to the boy's side.

"Shit," she muttered. "Broken wrist. Come on boy, let's get you to the Hospital Wing." She turned to the watching students. "None of you are to move while I take this boy to Madam Pomfrey! If I see a single broom out of place when I get back, I will personally see that whoever touched it is expelled. Do you understand?"

There was a low chorus of "Yes, ma'am"s, and Madam Hooch led Longbottom off towards the castle.

As soon as she'd left earshot, Draco began laughing.

"Did you see his face, the great lump! I thought he was going to crap his pants!" the boy said.

"I know," said Pansy Parkinson. "It was all I could do not to laugh when his broom started shaking like that."

"Shut it, you two," said a Gryffindor girl whose name Harry couldn't remember.

"Oh, sticking up for the fat little wimp?" asked Parkinson. "It sounds like Parvati's got a _boyfriend!" _

"Hey, look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's grandma sent him!" said Draco as he darted forward and snatched the Remembrall up out of the grass. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for him to find. How about a tree?"

Harry watched passively as Draco grabbed a broom and took off, circling around the Gryffindors a few times, as if daring them to stop him. When nobody did, he tilted his broom upwards and flew towards a large tree, where he placed the remembrall in the top branches. His job done, Draco looped around the tree, then came back to the waiting students.

"There," said the blonde boy. "That's that done. Now we've just got to wait for that old hag to get back to continue the lesson." Draco smirked as he rejoined Crabbe and Goyle, and Parkinson began chattering happily to him.

A little while later, as he and Carrion flew around the Quidditch pitch, Harry considered what he'd seen that day. There was definitely a streak in Malfoy that reminded Harry of some of the boys he'd killed at the factory. If the two of them were to be allies, Draco would have to learn to curb that malicious streak.

0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o

A tear rolled down Neville's face as he entered his dormitory. Parvati Patil had told him about what Malfoy had done after he had been taken to the infirmary. He'd told Madam Hooch, who had been furious, and tried to see Malfoy expelled, but Snape had refused to believe the testimony of a half dozen Gryffindor students, claiming that they were simply trying to get his student in trouble. The bastard had even given back the points Madam Hooch had taken from Slytherin. In the end, all Madam Hooch could do was give Draco a few detentions, and those were worthless, as Snape had insisted that Malfoy serve the punishment with him.

Neville hated his life. He hated that he was so weak, so stupid, and so powerless. He hated that he had no friends, and that nobody ever helped him. He choked down a sob, then started as a rat jumped off of his bed. He sat down on his trunk, then stopped. There, sitting on his pillow, was his remembrall.

Maybe somebody had helped him after all.


End file.
